Breakup
by Wyndes
Summary: Sometimes the right ending isn't happy. And other times it is. Chapter 1 is Angst, Chapter 2 is Humor. Chapter 3 is Humor/Romance.
1. Chapter 1

"Boyfriend out of surgery yet?" Zane knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn't help himself, even as he sat down on the bench next to Jo.

"No, and you have to stop."

"Sorry." He was sorry, really he was. He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't help himself. "It's just been a really weird day," he continued with a sigh.

"You're the one who kissed me with Carter's mouth." She leaned into him, her voice soft but slightly teasing.

He shook his head. "I was – I was caught up in the moment, I guess." He looked at her, then looked away.

"Zane. You have to know how crazy it is to be jealous of something between Carter and me that never happened." She'd turned to face him and he shifted so that he could look directly at her, but then looked down. He didn't want to see her face while they had this conversation.

"Yeah, but the thing is, it's not."

She didn't respond, just looked annoyed, so he continued.

"He's your best friend, JoJo." He looked up. His eyes met hers. This time this she was the one to look away.

He half-smiled but there was no humor on it. "Something goes wrong, you look for Carter. Something goes right, you look for Carter."

"That's not fair," she protested, turning back. "He's my partner."

"Jo . . ." Zane paused. Did he really want to go here? Did he really want to throw away what little he had of her? But he couldn't stop himself, not after he'd started. "He's not your partner. He never was."

She opened her mouth to protest but he put a finger up, covering her mouth and hurried on. "You were his deputy. Past-tense. Now you're the head of GD security and he's the sheriff. Not partners."

"But we –" she started and then stopped. She looked away from him.

"Yeah, you act like partners. But that's a choice, not a job description. It's a choice that you're making every time you turn toward Carter. Which is . . . pretty much every time there's trouble. And in Eureka, well, yeah, that's every day."

"Zane. . ."

He shook his head and tried to smile. "You didn't want to wait for me, you weren't ready to make a decision when I came back. I pushed you into one, but if Carter and Allison weren't together, you wouldn't have chosen me."

"Zane, I did choose you."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, you did." He looked down at the floor.

Jo put her hand on his arm. "Look, Carter and I have worked together for a long time, and yes, we're friends. But that doesn't have anything to do with you and me."

"It does, though." He sighed and his mouth twisted. "You know, when two people really know each other, they're in sync. You and Carter, you're in sync. You and me – we're not."

"Zane, that's not – that's not true."

"Jo, you've got a best friend. And it's not me. You've got a partner. And it's not me. You and me – we just sleep together. And hey, for most of my life, that arrangement would have been just fine." He grinned and for a moment, he felt like his old self, devil-may-care, able to turn on the charm, but then the grin was gone. "But it's not enough anymore. I don't like being second-best."

"Zane, you're not second-best. I chose to be involved with you. I chose to be with you."

"Sorta." He looked up at the door. Behind it, Allison was operating on Carter. He hoped that Carter came through okay, because he needed to apologize to him.

He needed to stop blaming him for something that wasn't his fault.

It wasn't anyone's fault.* It just was what it was.

He looked back at Jo. God, she was beautiful. Beautiful, smart, tough, funny – the whole package. But it wasn't his. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, feeling the spark between them, but pulling away before it flared into life. She leaned forward, following him, not understanding, and he shook his head, just a little.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said.

His smile was wry.

"You're dumping me because of something that happened in a computer program? It wasn't real. It wasn't me. I wasn't even there!" Jo stood up so that she was looking down on him, the better to yell at him.

He stood up, too. "It's not the computer program that's the problem. It's us, Jo. You and me? We don't fit. Maybe we never did."

* * *

_* Actually, it's entirely the Eureka writers' fault. They had a wonderful passionate romance to play with and they threw it away!_

_This story is a spot-the-quote story – three separate episodes are referenced. Anyone care to guess all three? _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This is not nuJo, the wishy-washy emo princess. This is old Jo who I so wish would come back. Enjoy! _

Jo Lupo didn't get mad.

She got even.

It had taken her one sleepless, miserable, teary-eyed night – and one only – to find the flaw in Zane's logic.

By the time she rolled out of bed at 5AM, she knew that she wasn't going to put up with his idiocy. But she needed a plan of attack. She thought about it while driving, while pounding a punching bag at the gym, while running on the treadmill, but it wasn't until showering that she decided.

All-out war.

Yep, that was the plan.

She hummed cheerfully as she worked on her strategy, making notes on her tablet while she waited at the counter of Café Diem for her morning smoothie.

Every battle should have a clear-cut goal. That was easy. Unconditional surrender. On his knees would do. Preferably in the middle of the rotunda at GD, but she'd accept Café Diem if circumstances worked out that way.

She'd need allies. Some were obvious, but others might be more challenging to recruit. Still, she had the advantage there and his history would work against him.

Defenses. Some of his lines of attack would be easy to predict. Others, not so much.

And this was Zane. Stubborn as hell. Chances were it would come down to the wire. She'd need to prepare for that, too.

"You seem happy today," Zane said, voice a little grim as he slid into the seat next to her.

She glanced up and smiled brightly. She'd seen him arrive in the reflection on the espresso machine. He'd paused in the doorway and she'd wondered how he was going to play it. Casual friends, huh? She'd shoot that one down real quick.

"Oh, I am," she responded.

"Breaking up must agree with you." He stared into the space straight ahead of him, not looking at her.

She had a momentary pang of sympathy for him and firmly suppressed it. If he was miserable, it was his own damn fault.

She turned on the stool, so that she was facing him. "Breaking up? I wouldn't call it that. I'd call it . . . You. Dumping. Me." On the last three words, she used her best drill sergeant voice, the one she'd use to order lazy recruits into push-ups. Everyone in the restaurant looked their way and Zane almost jumped off his seat.

"Jo—" he started to protest.

"And happyl? No, it doesn't make me happy, Zane. It makes me angry." She slid off her stool and began pacing. All eyes were on her and even though that wouldn't usually be her thing, at the moment, she kind of loved it.

"Angry," she repeated. She stared at a fascinated scientist sitting at one of the tables until he swallowed hard and probably without conscious control backed his chair up, and then she turned to glare at Zane, pacing back towards him. "You have the unmitigated gall to think you know what's best for me. The sheer pompous arrogance to decide that what you think I want is more important than what I say I want. You patronizing jackass!"

He flinched.

"So yeah, not happy. But do you know what does make me happy, Zane?"

She waited.

He didn't answer.

She looked around the room. All eyes were on her, frozen. "Anyone?"

No one answered.

She smiled. She smiled her most dangerous smile, the smile that welcomed a new recruit into hell. "War makes me happy."

She paced away from him again. "I know, I know, war's a great evil, nothing good ever comes from it, blah-blah-blah." She waved her hand in the air dismissively. "But I didn't become a soldier because I was afraid to fight."

She turned back and from across the room, stared at him. "Consider this a declaration of war. Two weeks. You have two weeks in which to surrender unconditionally." She looked around the room, catching one eye after another, and said. "I expect people to choose sides. I _expect_ that you're all smart enough to choose the right side."

Vincent had come out of the kitchen, her smoothie in one hand, a coffee in the other. His mouth was open. She smiled at him brightly and crossed back to the counter.

"My smoothie?"

He nodded and held it out to her. She reached for it but then took the coffee from him, as well.

"JoJo," Zane spoke in a much quieter voice than she had. "This – you – you can't. . ."

While he fumbled for words, she set down her smoothie on the counter and took the top off the coffee. It wasn't hers, but Vincent wasn't protesting. She stuck her pinkie in the coffee. Perfect. Hot, but not too hot.

"Some people," she interrupted him, "say that revenge is a dish best served cold. Me? I like my revenge hot. Piping, steaming hot."

With that, she poured the coffee in Zane's lap. He yelped and scrambled to get away from it, almost falling off the stool before he caught himself and stood. Vincent was wide-eyed and her spell over the others in the restaurant finally broke and a babble of noise began.

"What the hell, Jo?" Zane snapped at her.

She took the top of her smoothie and took one long, luxurious swallow. Delicious.

And then she let the cup drop and smiled sweetly. "Need to cool off?" she asked. With one smooth underhanded toss, she threw the smoothie on him, green sludge hitting him mid-chest.

"Have you gone insane?" he yelled.

"If I have, it's because you've finally driven me crazy." She turned back to Vincent. "You're going to pick the right side, right, Vincent?"

He nodded at her.

"Lovely." Jo sighed with satisfaction. Zane's pants were dripping with coffee, his shirt with smoothie. Yes, this was a very good start. "My work here is done, so I'll see you all later."

She gave a little wave to the audience and headed for the door. She was unlocking her car when Vincent appeared at the doorway to Café Diem. "Jo, wait," he called after her. "Am I allowed to feed him?"

Jo thought for a minute. Zane would starve without Café Diem. A grin curved her lips and she called back, "Nothing that he likes."


	3. Chapter 3

She'd had the advantage of surprise and it turned out that all the tactical advantages were hers, too.

By the time he got to work that morning, she'd re-programmed the security codes on his lab. They'd cycle every four hours, which meant that every time he went out of his lab, he'd be locked out until he could get help to get back in. He'd try hacking the system eventually – she'd guess by the third time he was locked out – so she put the security on the highest alert level she could without assigning armed guards to the door. He'd break it eventually, but he'd probably set the alarm off a few times before he did. His neighbors were not going to be happy with him.

Speaking of his neighbors . . . she couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she placed orders for temporary lab reassignments. She'd had three complaints in the past month about the smells oozing from Dr. Baker's lab. He'd be a great new next-door neighbor for Zane. And Dr. Murakami's sonic experiments gave everyone nearby headaches. He'd been buried in the lowest depths of GD for months, so she'd bet he'd like to spend a couple of weeks on a higher floor while his lab was . . . she thought for a moment and then filled out the order for it to be repainted. No need to get fancy. Routine maintenance would work.

Some other routines could work to her advantage, too. She pulled up her security drill list. She'd start small. Fire drill tomorrow. Earthquake drill the next day. Biochemical leak, terrorist attack, nuclear war – it'd be so good for her security teams to get all this practice, she thought happily as she scheduled a different drill for Zane's floor of GD for almost every day for the next two weeks. She'd let them have a day or two off, though, mostly so that Zane would spend all day waiting for the drill that never arrived.

She leaned back in her office chair and rubbed her hands together. She'd never misused her authority before, but it was actually quite fun. What else could she do?

* * *

_Five days later_

The door to Fargo's office burst open.

Jo tried to hide her smile and Fargo sighed as Zane stormed in, carrying a rabbit by the scruff of its neck. The poor thing had its ears flattened down its back and looked quite miserable.

"Fargo! You have got to stop her!"

"Stop who?" Jo asked innocently.

Zane glared at her. He obviously hadn't seen her sitting on the couch. "You are a maniac!"

"Me?" Jo pointed at herself and opened her eyes wide. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I came back from lunch and found my lab filled with – with –" Zane gave the rabbit a little shake.

"Bunnies?" Fargo offered helpfully. Standing, he came around to the front of his desk and took the rabbit away from Zane.

"Bunnies," Zane snapped. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Jo, this has to stop. I can't get any work done."

Jo shrugged. "This is the first I've heard about any bunnies," she said. "But if you want to file a report, I'd be happy to investigate."

"You put the damn rabbits there!"

"Not me," Jo denied quickly. "You said you were only gone for lunch? That's what, an hour? I've been in meetings with Fargo for the past two." She smiled her best innocent smile. Then thought about it and added an eyelash flutter for good measure.

"Fargo," Zane grated out the name through gritted teeth.

"She's been in my office since 11, Zane." Fargo returned to his seat, stroking the rabbit. "I think this might be one of the therapy rabbits from the grief lab. Maybe someone thought you could use some bereavement counseling."

"It's not just the rabbits. It's the smells and the drills and the noises and the temperature and the damn alarm – this is harassment!"

"File a complaint," Jo suggested. "You know, like the one you suggested that poor woman file on Carter last week. It'll work its way through the system in a couple of months."

Zane glared at her. "Fine. You want war? All right, you'll get war." He turned and stomped his way out.

Fargo sighed again. "Jo, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I didn't do the rabbits, Fargo."

"Do you know who did?"

Jo laughed. "No. And I don't know who froze – as in literally froze, frostbite kind of freezing – everything in his lab yesterday, nor do I know why his refrigerator plays Britney Spears every time the door is opened. Or how."

"You told people to pick sides. Some of them seem to be taking yours pretty enthusiastically."

"Yeah," Jo agreed, with a little sigh. She'd thought Zane's history would work against him and it surely was: every person who he'd ever played a stupid prank on during his earlier years at GD was taking the opportunity to get a little revenge. She was enjoying it. But she also suspected that Zane being Zane, any chance of a quick end to this battle got more remote with each new prank.

* * *

_A few days after that_

Zane leaned forward, stealing a French fry from the plate of the pretty blonde woman sitting across from him with a wink and his most charming smile. Her hair flip in response was the classic flirtatious move that precocious girls learned in 7th grade.

Jo grimaced.

He was so obvious, it almost hurt.

She strode forward, two guards three steps behind her, and paused at the fence that separated the tables outside Café Diem from the street. "Dr. Linardo?" she asked, interrupting their conversation.

"Get lost, Jo," Zane muttered.

"Yes?" The blonde woman looked up, eyes questioning.

Jo passed her an envelope and waited.

The woman opened it and read, her mouth dropping open. "Redacted? Redacted! But why?"

Jo smiled sympathetically. "Apparently your security clearance has been revoked."

"But why?" the blonde protested again.

"Gee, I don't know," Jo said, voice dripping with innocence. "Someone in the security department must think you pose a security risk."

"A security risk?" The blonde looked from Jo to Zane and back again and almost whimpered. "But . . . but . . . but I worked so hard to get here."

"Unfortunately, these things happen." Jo waved her guards forward. "These gentlemen will escort you to your office and help you clean out your personal belongings. You have two hours."

She stayed, leaning on the fence, as her guards escorted the blonde away.

"Jo, did you seriously just do that?" Zane was dumbfounded. "Are you kidding? That's –"

"Collateral damage," she interrupted him. "You've got five days left. Nothing less than unconditional surrender will do." She pushed herself off the fence and strode away, feeling annoyed.

Dr. Linardo had done a great job. And Jo knew the blonde would enjoy her week-long Hawaiian vacation at Jo's expense. But dammit, at some point, Zane needed to stop and think about what he was trying to accomplish. For such a smart guy, he was sometimes truly stupid.

* * *

_Two weeks_

Jo rubbed her hands over her face. She was tired. God, she was tired.

She had to give Zane credit: making her own house's security sensors beep on a random schedule had been evil genius. She could take individual sensors offline, but she couldn't make them all stop without shutting down the whole system. Given the weaponry stored in her basement, that posed an unacceptable security risk.

And shutting off the hot water? Simple but damn annoying.

Still, she could take comfort in the fact that he hadn't had a decent meal in two weeks.

She glanced at her watch and then at her office clock. Where was he, she wondered? The two weeks was up. He should be stomping in here, ready to declare his triumphant victory. Right on schedule, the door opened.

Her smile was wry. Did he know how predictable he was, she wondered?

"Two weeks," Zane announced.

"That's right," Jo leaned back in her office chair and looked at him, the messy hair, unshaven cheeks, surly expression, and gorgeous eyes.

"I don't surrender."

"I never really expected you to." She smiled at him, but she knew her eyes showed her sadness. "You win, congrats."

She stood, sliding her desk drawer closed. She picked up the half-empty cardboard box that was sitting on her desk and carried it across to her filing cabinet and set it on the floor, all the while aware of him watching her silently.

"That's it?" he finally said. "Congrats?"

"What do you want, a ticker-tape parade?" she asked, returning to her desk and seating herself behind it. Why wasn't he commenting on the box? She needed him to notice the box. Would it be too obvious if she went back to it?

"What was all this about, Jo?"

She paused. She hadn't actually expected that question. She picked up the envelope sitting on her desk and tapped it against the surface of the desk, thoughtfully, then finally sighed and answered. "I guess I was trying to remind you of who I am. One last shot to see if you could figure me out."

"You think making my life miserable helps me know you better?"

She laughed and stood up. "All right, let me spell it out for you. In some fictitious future world, predictive algorithms decreed that I – after going through some serious trauma – settled for a comfortable, nice, easy relationship with Carter. Right? You looked at that and you decided that's what I wanted. Me. Not some computer-generated, imaginary, traumatized me, but the real me." She banged her hand down on the desk, hard.

"I didn't become an Army Ranger because I liked comfort, Zane. I don't work in Eureka because I enjoy having my days be easy. And nice? Nice? I don't do nice."

She looked at him, still standing in the doorway and chuckled without humor. "You dumped me because you decided I wanted comfortable and easy instead of passionate and maddening. It was damn insulting."

"You couldn't maybe have said this instead of torturing me?" Zane complained.

"You deserved it." Jo dismissed his complaint. She looked at him and then she turned away. There was a prickling in her eyes that she didn't want him to see. She crossed back to the file cabinet and opened the top drawer.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice wary.

"Cleaning out."

"Why?"

Jo closed her eyes with relief, but didn't let the emotion color her voice as she answered, "Transfer papers on the desk."

She heard the rustling behind her as he opened the envelope.

"What the hell?"

She turned to face him. "Maybe some future me gets seriously messed up, Zane. Messed up enough to think that a mellow life is what she wants. But the real me's going to be doing a tour of duty over in Afghanistan first."

"Are you insane?"

She smiled at him, with no humor in it. "You keep asking me that. I'm not sure it means what you think it means."

He looked down at the paper in his hands.

Jo held her breath.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

And then he smiled.

Not a sad smile or a wry smile, but a real smile. A Zane smile. The devilish grin that lit up his face and let the mischief shine through. The one that melted her heart and stopped her breath and made her want to kiss him and hit him in equal parts.

"Josefina Lupo," he drawled. "Running away to war to get away from relationship problems is not the sign of a sound mind."

She smiled back at him. "I prefer to think of it as deterrence."

"Oh, we've reached the mutual assured destruction stage of this little war?"

"You know how to stop me."

"Unconditional surrender?" He dropped the paper on her desk and took the three steps needed to enter her space but didn't touch her yet.

She licked her lips, aware of his eyes on her every move, and leaned a little closer, but didn't touch him either. "That's right."

"So what exactly does unconditional surrender look like?"

* * *

Unconditional surrender looked like Zane, on his knees, in the rotunda apologizing for being a patronizing jackass, in front of the morning crowd of GD arrivals, some of whom applauded.

The end of the war looked like Zane carrying Jo out of GD, her legs wrapped around his hips, their lips locked together, in front of the same morning crowd, all of whom applauded.

* * *

_A/N: I'm not in love with this ending, but this story has distracted me all day long from my other story, and I want to let it go so I can get back to that one. I might change the ending later, if I think of something better. _

_Speaking of _A Gift of Thought_, my profile has a link to my fictionpress account if you want to read a quirky original story with a kicka$$ heroine and an actually villainous bad guy. It's not quite done, but I hope to finish within the week, and I think it's pretty fun. _


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